


Shed Your Armour

by Telesilla



Series: We're Flesh and Bone Together and Alone [1]
Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Baseball, Community: trope_bingo, Don't Have to Know Canon, First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Trope Bingo Round 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:07:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Tim stares. "What the hell, Dude? Why is the great Buster fucking Posey, boy hero, putting his ass on the line for me?"</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shed Your Armour

Buster isn't there when it happens but he sure hears about it fast.

"Lincecum's a faggot!" Mark Grace says.

Buster rolls his eyes because sweet Jesus, not this again. It's like hardly a week goes by where someone isn't spreading rumors about Tim. "Can we talk about something else?"

"No dude, he really is!" It's Kevin Holt this time.

 _Football players are such assholes,_ Buster thinks as he drinks his milk.

"What did he do this time? Look at you the wrong way?" he says. "It's not like even a gay dude would want to fuck your ugly ass, Holt."

While Kevin makes a face, Mark leans in a little. "Bobbi told me that he dropped some queer porno magazine in the hall outside his locker."

 _Who the hell buys magazines any more?_ Buster gets all his porn off the internet.

"Because Bobbi's a reliable source." Buster tries to put as much scorn as possible into his voice, but really, it's not true. Bobbi's a horrible person and runs her mouth all the time, but she also knows everything that happens before anyone else does.

"Jason said he saw it too."

Buster is literally saved by the bell. He chugs the last of his milk, scores a perfect three tossing the carton into the trash can halfway across the room, and grabs his backpack. "Why does anyone care?"

As he leaves their table, the guys all look at him like he's crazy.

Tim's in Buster's AP English class but he's not there when Mr. Cooper starts the class. The room is full of hushed whispers and Buster sees at least two notes being passed.

"If we could all _please_ pay attention," Cooper says. " I realize that Sylvia Plath is not as interesting as childish speculation about a classmate, but colleges are more impressed with an A in this class than they are with bigotry."

Buster would like to think that they've all been told, but since half the school is convinced Cooper's gay, no one's going to care what he says about Tim.

By the time Buster's makes it to the locker room to suit up for practice, he's heard the details--Tim did have some gay porn in his backpack, he ended up in the office and then he went home. So it comes as no surprise that Tim isn't there with them, but then things get weird.

"Belt," Coach Harding says. "I want you to throw off the mound today."

Brandon's eyes go wide and he stares down at his feet. Buster knows he can pitch--Brandon's got a mean fastball--but he doesn't have near the kind of control that Tim does; the kind that has scouts drooling over each pitch. And speaking of scouts....

"Tim's not pitching on Saturday?" Buster says. "I mean, sorry Moose, but scouts will be there."

Brandon's still a junior and while the scouts are already looking at him when they come down to check out Tim or Buster, it's because he hits for power when he's not tripping over his feet because he grew another inch last week.

"Nah, I know," Brandon says. "No one's making the trip just to see me pitch."

"Moose is pitching on Saturday," Harding says. "And that's that."

Buster looks around the locker room and realizes that most of the guys don't give a damn about the scouts or Tim's chances or anything. They probably would rather lose with Brandon on the mound than win with Tim.

"Whatever," Buster says, like it doesn't matter to him.

Later though, when he and Brandon are stretching out, he gives Brandon a long look. They've gone to school with each other all their lives, played ball together and been best friends for most of that time and they've always, always had each other's backs.

"What?" Brandon says.

"I don't know about you," Buster says. "But I think I might be coming down with that thing that's going around."

One thing you can say about Brandon--he's not stupid. "Is that so? You gonna be okay to pay on Saturday?"

"Depends. I hope you don't get it."

"I've been feeling kinda...off all day." He sighs. "It's just not fucking fair. I mean...it's weird that Tim's really queer but still, it's not fair to keep him from pitching when Coach knows the scouts'll be here."

"Yeah, well, they'll be here for me too. And it won't look good for the school if Tim's out for some bullshit reason and I'm too sick to play."

"Are you really going to risk it?"

"I dunno. I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm going to FSU, so I don't care that much. But Tim's not sure yet and he hasn't gotten as many looks as I have."

It's not like Buster doesn't know how good he is. There are trophies in the display case that wouldn't be there if not for him. He's set a dozen school records and another half dozen regional records. He could bypass college altogether and someone would draft him and sign him for at least a couple million bucks like the Giants did with that kid from North Carolina last year.

It gives him leverage and with his future pretty much decided, he can use that leverage. Brandon though....

"If I do this, I don't want you to get in trouble."

"Like that's ever stopped me?"

And sure, maybe it's more because Brandon's likes to get into trouble than because he's okay with Tim being gay, but it's still nice to know that Brandon's on his side.

For now at least.

Buster doesn't say anything to the coach during practice. Brandon's incredibly wild on the mound; hurling that fastball without really caring where it ends up, but that could just be Brandon being Brandon. Coach looks pissed off and some of the guys mutter about their chances on Saturday, but no one talks about Tim.

 _Maybe it's not just football players who are assholes,_ Buster thinks.

After practice, Buster walks over to Powell's Drugs. Kristen's on the register, but she's not checking anyone out.

"Hey, your dad around?"

"No," she says. "But that doesn't mean you can hang around and distract me."

"Because you're so busy," Buster replies, looking around. The store's empty except for someone back at the actual pharmacy counter. "And anyway, if Anna can be back there bothering Bud, why can't I bother you?"

"Because Bud's not Daddy's little girl." She smiles at him though and it makes him feel even worse about the idea that's been bumping around in his brain since school let out.

"Did you hear about Tim?"

"Yeah, just before lunch. I was gonna come over and say something but it looked like you boys already knew."

They don't eat lunch together most days; they may be going out together, but some of her friends don't like the guys he hangs out with. Come to think of it, Buster doesn't like a lot of the guys he hangs out with either. He'd rather eat lunch with Tim and Brandon but it doesn't work that way. Tim's too weird and Brandon's not the right kind of jock.

"Coach pulled him for Saturday."

"Really? Who's pitching?"

"Who do you think? Brandon."

"Well," she says with a laugh. "He hasn't killed anyone with that fastball. Yet."

"It's not funny," Buster says. "There'll be scouts there, maybe even some guys from the west coast."

"They're mostly there for you."

"I know but still, they'll be looking at Tim too."

"You're really upset about this." She stares at him. "You've got that look."

"Which look?"

"The one you got before you and Brandon talked me and Haylee into drinking that whiskey that one time."

Buster's stomach does a queasy roll just at the thought of it. "Yeah, that one kind of backfired on me."

"Or that time you tried to drive your daddy's truck when we were what, ten? Or the time you...."

"Be fair. Most of my bad ideas are Brandon's fault." He takes a deep breath. "This one...he doesn't know about this one."

"Why am I getting the feeling I won't like it?"

"Because you won't...."

* * *

Buster thinks about calling Tim or texting him, but he figures Tim's phone is probably off so he just heads over to Tim's place. There isn't a car in the driveway; Tim's dad is a teacher at the JC and he teaches a lot of night classes. Resisting the urge to look around to see if anyone sees him, Buster knocks on the door.

When no one answers right away, he thinks about just leaving because really, his idea doesn't seem like such a good one right now. He's already pissed Kristen off and....

"What do you want?"

Tim's scowling and his long hair's messy and he's got a pop tart in one hand and Buster can hear the TV in the background and...

"Are you gay?" The minute he says the words he regrets them because sweet Jesus what a dumb thing to say.

"Let me get this right," Tim says after a long moment. "You came over to ask me that? So what, you could beat the crap out of me if I say yes? Any plans for if I say no?"

"Only plan I've got is...." Buster swallows hard. "Will you go to the prom with me?"

"Fuck you," Tim says and tries to slam the door.

Buster puts his foot out and catches the door before it closes. "I'm not joking." He rubs the back of his neck. "Go up to Powell's and ask Kristen."

"Yeah because she wouldn't be in on your fucking joke. Is the Moose involved too?"

"Moose is pitching on Saturday. Didn't anyone tell you?"

Tim's face scrunches up and he looks away. "You...fuck it. You better come in."

Buster's been to Tim's place a few times and it always strikes him how different it is from his house or any of his friend's houses. There are tons of books everywhere and the couch is covered in a big throw that looks like it came from India or somewhere. None of the furniture matches and Tim and his dad have something like three cats and a ton of houseplants. Mr. Powell calls the Lincecums hippies and says that Tim's dad is a communist. Buster thinks Mr. Powell is stuck in the wrong century but Kristen's dad isn't the only person in town who thinks the Lincecums are weird.

"Want something?" Tim says after a moment. "There's Pepsi and Dad said I could have a beer if I really wanted one." Tim shoots him a sideways look. "And milk, but it's soy."

"Shut up about my milk," Buster says automatically.

"Sit down if you want," Tim says, heading for the kitchen. "And turn the TV off."

The remote is under the biggest cat Buster's ever seen. It looks at him with total contempt as he wrestles the remote away from it and then starts washing its butt.

"Your cat doesn't give a fuck," Buster calls out as he turns off the TV.

"Yeah, Maxwell's like that." 

Tim comes into the room again and hands Buster a Pepsi.

"Yes, I'm gay," he adds, sitting down.

"Um. Okay." Buster feels his face heat up. Great; he's blushing. "This is one of the weirdest conversations I've ever had."

Maxwell looks up and him and then goes back to his butt licking.

"You need to get out more," Tim says. Then, before Buster can answer, he adds, "I wish I could get out more. God, I hate this place."

Buster wants to say that it's not that bad, but he can't.

"Where'd you live before this?" Tim's only been in town for a year and a half, which just makes it worse for him, since almost everyone else at school grew up together.

"Florida for a couple years, Virginia before that." Tim takes a long gulp of his Pepsi. "Dad's promised me he won't get fired before I graduate."

"What?"

"He gets fired because he starts teaching real history and, who knew? White boys in the South don't want to learn about the contributions of women and people of color." It sounds almost rote and then Tim sighs. 

"He's a really good dad and he taught me how to pitch like I do, but I fucking wish we'd stay in one place." He shakes his head a little. "Did you mean that?"

"What? Taking you to prom? Yeah."

"And Kristen?"

"She thinks I'm overreacting but she agrees that you shouldn't have your college plans screwed up."

"What does that have to do with prom?"

"Prom's to keep people from beating you up." Buster shrugs. "As for college plans and scouts, I'm going to be sick on Saturday. Brandon said he might be too."

Tim stares. "What the hell, Dude? Why is the great Buster fucking Posey, boy hero, putting his ass on the line for me?"

"Because I'm the great Buster fucking Posey, boy hero. You know how it goes, with great power comes great responsibility and all that."

"You, making a Spider-Man joke? Did you just see the movies or do you actually read comics?"

"No, I just read the Bible," Buster says with a roll of his eyes. "And only the parts the pastor tells me to read."

"Hey, could be," Tim says.

"Except where I'm pulling As in AP English."

"Really though...why?"

"Because...."

Buster's never said it. He rarely even thinks it.

"Because I'm...." He takes a deep breath. "Fuck it. Because I'm gay."

"Ha ha, very...you're not joking are you?" Tim pauses and stares at Buster. "Um...are you gonna throw up?"

Buster shakes his head.

"How about breathe? Because you might want to do that."

Nodding, Buster tries breathing. It feels like there's an elephant on his chest, but he keeps at it and after while, he feels a little better.

"Never said it before," he says. 

"How long have you known?"

"I dunno...forever. I just...I always liked guys."

"You grew up with the Moose didn't you?"

"Nah, it's not because of Brandon. I mean, I kinda had a thing for a little while but it felt too much like perving on my brother, you know?"

"So, Kristen doesn't know?"

"No. She thinks I'm a nice boy because I don't want to do anything but make out." Buster looks down at his hands. "Does your dad know?"

"Yeah. It...." Tim snorts. "He's this big fucking liberal and then his kid turns out to be gay. He actually asked me what he did wrong. But he's good with it now; he just needed some time.."

"I can't imagine telling my dad. I mean...I've got his name." Buster takes drink of his Pepsi and, makes a face, and puts it aside.

"Hang on," Tim says and goes out to the kitchen again. Maxwell takes advantage of Tim's absence and climbs up on Buster's lap. He weighs a fucking ton.

"Um hi...." Buster pets him awkwardly. 

"Here." Tim's back and he hands Buster a beer before settling on the couch with his own bottle. "Don't pretend you don't; I saw you and Brandon at the last bonfire."

"That was Brandon's idea."

"You say that a lot, you know."

"I do?"

"Yeah. I've heard you say it tons of times at practice whenever it looks like you did something stupid."

"Huh." Buster twists the cap off his Dos Equis. "Stay thirsty, my friend." The beer's good; better than the Bud Light he had at the bonfire.

"You ever have a boyfriend?" he asks.

"Not exactly. There was this guy in Virginia...we fooled around some. But you know, we weren't in some nice suburb near DC. It's not like we could date or anything." He shoots a sideways glance at Buster. "Never went to a prom with him."

"Yeah well...." Buster gulps down half his beer in one go. "I want to think I'd ask you even if I wasn't gay, but I don't know."

"It's okay."

They sit like that for a long moment, drinking their beers and it's weird how comfortable it is to just sit with someone who knows. 

When the bottles are empty, Tim gets up to get more beer. "I shouldn't," Buster begins when Tim hands him one. "But...fuck it."

After another drink of beer, he turns to Tim. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You had a shitty day and I came over and made it all about me."

"Wow, you're somewhat self-aware for a jock."

"Yeah and you pitch pretty well for a freak." Buster drinks more beer and then pets Maxwell. "I'm serious about Saturday. I won't play and I'm pretty sure I can get Brandon to go along with it."

"Might not be a good idea. For Brandon I mean. He's got to play next year."

"Yeah because Coach is gonna take the Moose out of the lineup all year." Buster laughs. "And you know, I might say everything's his fault, but he's perfectly capable of getting into trouble without me."

"I just..." Tim shrugs. "There's still a couple weeks of school left."

"Yeah well, we already know that you and me and Brandon can't carry a team of sophomores to the regionals this year."

"I'm talking about school. If it gets out that you're...being nice to me."

"Fuck 'em." 

"Ew. No thanks. Well maybe the Moose. He's got a nice ass, but he's kinda...well...."

"Homely?"

"Yeah." Tim leans his head back to rest on the back of the couch. "But seriously, there are only, I dunno, maybe one or two guys at school I'd even think about doing."

"Oh?" Buster usually jerks off thinking about Matt Kemp or sometimes Bryce Harper. He doesn't think about guys at school...well, not most guys.

"Derek Jackson."

"Yeah, he's pretty hot." And he is, but he's also black, already six-ten and skinny--pretty much Buster's exact opposite. 

Tim tilts his head back as he drinks more beer. Buster looks at the long sweep of his neck and then looks away. 

"And," Tim adds. "There's this guy on the baseball team, star player, Mr. Popularity...I think he's pretty hot."

"Tim, are you...." Buster's voice broke a couple years ago, but it cracks anyway.

"I dunno though. Not sure he likes short, skinny guys with weird teeth."

"Maybe he has a thing for long haired freaks," Buster says, trying for the same half joking tone Tim's got going.

"I really really want to kiss you. But...."

"But?" Buster's heart is pounding and his palms feel damp.

"I don't want to freak you out."

Buster's a little drunk, a lot nervous and suddenly has a boner. 

"Too late for that," he says, his voice hoarse. "So why not...?"

Tim leans in and presses his lips against Buster's. It's the simplest, most basic of kisses, just a quick peck really, but Buster's heart starts trying to pound its way out of his chest.  
When they both pull back, Tim's eyes are wide as he stares at Buster. "I want...." he says.

Buster cuts him off, reaching up to tug on the back of Tim's neck. "Me too," he says and kisses Tim again.

This time it's more than a peck; they both open their mouths at the same time and then Tim's tongue is pushing into Buster's mouth. It's not like making out with Kristen; she lets him kiss her but now it's more like Tim's doing all the kissing. And it should be weird, but really? It's the hottest thing that's ever happened to Buster. 

Buster slides over and turns a little, trying to get closer. "Gah!" he yelps as Maxwell pushes off his lap to launch himself to the floor. "Ow!"

"Did he scratch you?"

"No...um...." And suddenly it's the funniest thing ever; Buster starts laughing. "He put his back foot on my dick." 

Tim starts laughing too and then it just gets funnier and funnier until they're both leaning on each other laughing hysterically. Every time Buster manages to stop, Tim will start up again. 

"Stop," Buster says, his chest heaving. "God...stop...."

"I can't...fuck...."

Finally, the only thing Buster can think of is to lean in and kiss Tim again. They kind of breathe into one another's mouths for a moment and then Tim's pushing Buster until Buster's lying back on his elbows. Tim's pressed up against him and God, but this is a _guy_. Buster's lying on a couch making out with a guy he's tried not to think about for over a year.

He makes an embarrassing little noise in the back of his throat and pushes up against Tim. When he feels the hard length of Tim's dick against his thigh, it's too much. 

"Stop," Buster says with a gasp as he twists out from under Tim.

Tim pulls back, his eyes wide and a little scared. "I'm...I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?"

"Huh?" Buster blinks. "No no...it's...fuck, you're really hot. I didn't want to..." He trails off, and then mumbles, "come in my pants."

"Oh," Tim says. "I was afraid you were having second thoughts."

"I'm not sure I was having thoughts at all." Buster reaches out and runs his hand down Tim's arm. "But now I'm thinking...."

"What?"

"That I'm really really gay. Also, a little drunk."

"As long as it's not the other way around." Tim looks down at Buster. "I keep thinking this is a dream and I'm gonna wake up and need to change the sheets." He leans down and kisses Buster lightly. "Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I'll go to your stupid redneck prom with you."

"Really?" Buster frowns up at him. "Because I'm not sure I want to take some long hair hippie boy."

"I just have one question though. Am I gonna get flowers out of this? Because I totally want flowers."

"Um...you know, I didn't think about that."

"Buster? I was joking."

"I know!" Buster rolls his eyes. "But seriously, do I pick you up? Do we give each other corsages?" 

"You're the one who has his own truck. Unless you want me borrow the Prius and...."

Buster's phone rings. "Fuck," he says when he sees the number.

"Hi, Mom. Sorry I didn't call. I'm helping one of the guys with his homework."

"Okay, honey." And wow, nothing kills an hard on like your mom's voice. "I'll put aside some dinner for you."

"Thanks. Bye."

"Sorry," he says, making sure to turn his phone off. "Wow, way to kill the mood." 

"It's okay. I wanted to talk about Saturday. Are you really going to be sick?" 

"Actually, I think I'll just tell Coach I'm not playing."

Tim frowns. "Maybe that's a decision you want to make when you haven't had a couple beers."

"No," Buster shakes his head. "I mean I'm kind of drunk, but this is the second to last...."

"Penultimate," Tim says, interrupting him.

"Penultimate game of the year. If he kicks me off the team, he kicks me off the team."

"Do you want the scouts to hear that you're not cooperative?"

"I've already got three college offers and I'm eligible for the draft. No one's gonna care if I miss a game at the end of the school year. You have any offers?"

"Yeah, but they're both southern colleges and I'm not going to school down here. I'm hoping for University of Washington; they've acted like they're interested. And I could just go for the draft; it's a weak year for pitchers."

Tim's words pull Buster up short. "I was...fuck."

"What?"

"Southern colleges...I was gonna go with FSU." Buster leans back until his head is against the arm of the couch. Staring up at the ceiling, he says. "I don't want to be gay in Tallahassee."

"Yeah, if you're gonna be gay in Florida, you really need to be in Miami," Tim says, resting a hand on Buster's leg. "We're both gonna have to be in the closet if we want to play in the bigs."

"Yeah but...."

"Fuck it," Tim says, leaning over Buster. "I want to kiss you again. And you know...we could solve the problem with your pants."

"Yeah?"

"If you unzipped them, I could jerk you off."

"Uh...really?" Buster stares up at Tim. He's been going out with Kristen for two years now and she's put her hand on his junk maybe a dozen times, mostly by accident. He's never put his hands down her pants or up her skirt. And just like this, Tim wants to jerk him off? "Wow."

"What?"

"Is it always like this? This easy?"

"In my limited experience, yeah. It's like, we're both dudes, right? We want to get off when we can." He rests a hand on Buster's thigh. "Too fast?"

"Not if you don't think so." Buster looks around a little. "Can we maybe go into your room?"

"Dad won't be home for a while, but yeah, my bed's more comfortable. And bigger."

Tim's bed isn't just bigger than the couch, it's bigger than Buster's bed. The rest of the room is bigger than Buster's too; one of the advantages of being an only child. It's also kind of a mess.

"Sorry," Tim says. "I haven't done laundry in a while."

"It's okay." Buster steps closer to Tim. They haven't kissed standing up and it's weird; Tim's only a little taller than Kristen and probably doesn't weigh much more than she does. When Buster wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him in close, however, there's no doubt he's hugging a guy. 

When they kiss, Buster can't resist running a hand up Tim's back and into his hair. It's tangled a little but still sleek and soft against Buster's fingers. Tim makes a little humming noise and Buster kisses him harder. It's different than earlier; Tim's letting Buster do the kissing and Buster wonders if that's how it works with guys. Maybe you take turns.

It doesn't take Buster long to get hard again and when he feels Tim's hardon up against his thigh, he moans into Tim's mouth. He can't help wondering if it will always be this hot, if he'll always get this little thrill because holy fuck, it's another _guy_ he's kissing.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Tim says, panting a little. "You're so fucking hot."

Buster can feel that stupid blush of his make its way across his cheeks and down his neck. "You are too," he manages to say.

Tim leans back to look at him and then grins. "No one's ever told you that before have they?"

"No," Buster says, biting his lip.

"God, of course you're modest too. How are you even real?" 

"Shut up," Buster says and kisses him again. Everyone says he's so perfect and it's weird because he's got this big secret and no one would think he was so perfect if they knew, now would they? 

But Tim...Tim knows.

"C'mon," Tim says. "We came in here for the bed after all."

Buster kicks his shoes off and then sits down on the edge of the bed, not sure what to do next. Should he take his jeans off? Should he lie down? Uncertainty is a weird feeling; he's in uncharted territory here and he's not sure he likes it.

"Hey," Tim says. "If you want me to stop, just let me know."

"Oh my God," Buster blurts out. "I'm the girl." And wow, you'd think he'd already used up his stock of stupid things to say, but no.

"No," Tim says down next to him. "It doesn't really work that way."

"I...should know that. I mean, I've read stuff on the internet." 

"But you're not used to now knowing how to do things."

Buster looks at him. "What, you're a mind reader now?"

To his surprise, Tim blushes a little and ducks his head. "I'm more a Buster watcher than a mind reader."

Buster doesn't have anything to say to that and so he turns and kisses Tim on the cheek. It's nice--lips to skin like that--and so he keeps going, kissing across Tim's jaw to his neck. When Tim hums, "mmmmm," Buster smiles and keeps nuzzling at Tim's neck. He kind of wants to bite down a little, but no, that would be a really bad idea.

When Tim moans and grabs Buster's arms and tugs a little, Buster goes with it. They end up sprawled next to each other and then they're kissing again. It feels so good that Buster doesn't care when Tim rolls him onto his back. Then Tim's half on top of him and Tim's hand is fumbling with the buttons of Buster's jeans.

Reaching down Buster tries to help, their fingers tangling together. Tim laughs and lets Buster do it. Buster doesn't wear his jeans all that tight, but it's still a relief when he gets them unzipped. He's so turned on that even the brush of his own fingers against his dick makes him shiver. 

"Let me," Tim says. He tugs on the band of Buster's boxer briefs and Buster lifts his hips up.

Buster has a moment to feel a little weird with his dick out like this, but then Tim's wrapping his hand around it and his thumb rubs over the head. Buster yelps a little as his hips buck up. 

"Oh God...oh God...." 

Buster jerks off all the time and this is just a hand on his dick, but it's someone else's hand--it's _Tim's_ hand--and it's pretty much the best thing ever.

"Wow," Tim mutters, staring down at Buster. Buster's not sure what Tim's seeing to make him say that, but then Tim reaches up and shoves Buster's shirt up. "No seriously, wow."

"What...?" Buster can't say anything more because Tim bends down to kiss him.

It's almost too much--the wet slide of Tim's tongue in his mouth, the firm grip of his hand on Buster's dick. It's like his whole body is on overload; he can't take it. Buster groans into Tim's mouth and comes hard. It's easily the best orgasm of his life and it leaves him gasping and shuddering. 

"Fuck," he finally pants out. "God...Tim...I...." The words aren't there, so he reaches up and pulls Tim down for another kiss. 

"Let me," Buster says, once he feels like he's got a few brain cells back. "Let me...tell me what to do."

"Fuck," Tim says, flopping down on his back. He shoves his sweats down. "Your hand...it won't take much."

Tim's dick is surprisingly big for such a skinny guy, but then again, since Buster's never seen another guy's hardon in real life, what does he know? Without really thinking about it, Buster spits into his hand and then reaches for Tim's dick.

Once he's got it in hand, it feels a lot like his--smooth and hard and slick. He can't help leaning in for a closer look as he works his hand up and down. Tim's groaning and his hands are clutching at the blankets under him. Without stopping to think it through, Buster bends down and runs his tongue over the head.

"Oh fuck!" Tim yells. His hips jerk up hard and then he's coming in Buster's mouth and all over Buster's face. It should be gross, but Buster's seen it enough in porn to know what he looks like. So when Tim goes up on one elbow to look at him, Buster does what the guys in porn do; he runs his finger along his wet cheek and then slides it into his mouth. It tastes like come, but Buster knows what to expect and he's okay with it.

"Holy fuck." Tim's eyes are wide. "You...that...damn you learn fast."

"Seen a lot of porn," Buster says, but he can't help feeling smug. Also? Sticky. "You got something I can get the rest of it with?"

Tim pulls his faded Mariners shirt off and hands it to Buster. It's weird, but also hot for some reason. He's kind of a mess, he thinks, but he should be able to get home without anyone noticing. 

Not that he wants to go anywhere. He tosses the shirt toward the pile of dirty laundry and then flops down on the bed next to Tim. It's seven and he's got homework and his mom's holding dinner for him and....

"Fuck it," he says. "Can I stay for a while?"

"I was hoping you would." Tim looks over at him and smiles. "You're supposed to be helping me with my homework after all."

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> I really need to stop pretending and just admit that everything I write in this fandom will somehow be part of a series. This was supposed to be a kind of cute one off, but it's not. So yeah, there will be more because OMG these boys.
> 
> I fudged Buster's background a lot for this, because once you have Tim and Belt at the same school as Buster Posey, you've wandered into true AU country. I do think they're in a smallish town somewhere in Georgia, but I'm not going to be more specific than that. The title and series title are from Underwater (feat Rani Kamal) by Delerium and yes, the spelling of armour is correct because the band is British.


End file.
